


Love is a Bitch

by Frosted-Soil (Jackson_Overland_Frost)



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: And angel dust-typical sexual innuendos, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Ballroom Dancing, Cajun Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Dancing, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Jazz - Freeform, M/M, Not Beta Read, One-Shot, Pre-Relationship, Rated teen for swearing, but no accent I’m afraid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackson_Overland_Frost/pseuds/Frosted-Soil
Summary: Alastor is used to dancing without a partner, but Angel Dust makes a surprisingly good one.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 153





	Love is a Bitch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribespirare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribespirare/gifts).



> Wrote this in 40 minutes playing Love is a Bitch by Two Feet on repeat. A little dancing scene that I promised to scribespirare :)

**Love Is A Bitch**

Slow jazz filtered through Alastor’s static, a newer song that he had heard their resident pornstar humming earlier that evening. He had eavesdropped long enough to match up the quiet notes and words to a song, cycling through imagined stations until he found it. When Alastor was younger, his momma had taught him how to dance in their kitchen, while something simmered on the stove and drifted delicious scents through the kitchen. He rarely had to dance once he became a radio host, and even less once he filled up his spare time with killing. Still, when the gumbo he had hunted for was just beginning to smell delicious and jazz was on the radio, sometimes he danced a partnerless dance alone in his kitchen. 

Now, Alastor did the same thing in the Hotel’s dark and quiet lobby, the hour late enough that no one ought to be awake. There wasn’t anywhere else in the hotel that was open enough to dance in, and Alastor had told Charlie that he would stay overnight. Most places in the Radio Tower were too cramped anyways. 

With a quiet sigh, he reached out for his imaginary partner’s arm, only to actually grasp onto someone. Alastor met Angel Dust’s eyes, his smile widening in surprise at the other demon’s presence. Usually he would never have been caught unaware by anyone, but he must have been too engrossed in the movement and the music. Still, he continued the movement, pulling Angel closer and into a short spin keeping him balanced with a hand against his side. 

“Now, whatever are you doing down here at this hour, Angel Dust?” He wondered out loud as he led them across the floor. Angel went easily with him, and Alastor could just about see his grin out of the corner of his eye. 

“Could say the same to you, smiles,” Angel said, twirling obediently and almost tripping over the edge of a carpet. “Couldn’t sleep, and I heard music. I love this song.” 

They finished the movement, hands linked and arms outstretched, before pausing. “Could ya take me straight to tha center of the room?” Angel asked, before doing another twirl back into Alastor’s arms without waiting for an answer. Alastor took a step, caught Angel by the waist and led him into a standing spin, two of Angel’s arms wrapped around Alastor and the others outstretched. 

Finally, Alastor let Angel down, and he led the other through the last few steps of the half-remembered routine before they separated to face each other with matching grins. 

“I must say, my dear, that you did quite better than I expected,” Alastor said, taking his hand back and letting it fall to his side. 

“Fuck yea I did!” Angel cheered. “Man, I haven’t danced for ages and I can still do that shit?”

Angel did a little wiggle across the floor, to Alastor’s great amusement. The song that they had been dancing to gave way to static again, just in time for Angel to start humming something else. Without Alastor’s permission, it paired itself up with Angel’s voice. 

“Well, I’m glad to assist you. You weren’t such a terrible dance partner yourself, especially considering we didn’t have any particular set in mind,” Alastor told him. 

“Shit, ya did all that improvised?” Angel asked, eyes widening. “Impressive, Al. Didn’t think there was more to ya than murder.”

Alastor laughed. “My dear, I am a  _ classy _ murderer. If I didn’t know how to dance, where would that leave me? I am surprised to see that you know any proper dance yourself, considering how fond you seem to be of squirming on a pole and calling it by the same name.”

“I can squirm on  _ your _ pole, if ya wanted me to~” Angel said, quirking an eyebrow and leaning towards him, but Alastor quickly summoned his microphone to hand and pushed Angel away. 

“And I believe that is our que that you should be heading back up to sleep, my dear,” Alastor said, smile turning a bit sharp at the corners. 

With a whine, Angel dropped his arms limply to his sides. “Awww, come on, smiles, just one more dance? Promise I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Sighing, Alastor vanished his microphone. To Angel’s credit, he remained in place until Alastor reached his hand out to him, and accepted it with a grin. “Fine, one more dance. I am feeling rather fox trot-ish this evening, and having a dance partner for once has not been a completely unreasonable experience.”

“Just admit I’m growin’ on ya, Al,” Angel teased as Alastor swept them both across the floor. 

“Like mold,” he responded, and stepped pointedly on Angel’s foot with the heel of his hoof-printed boots. “Mouth shut.” 


End file.
